You Are
by oberyn
Summary: /...I am not a man, I am a monster, I am a murder being plotted with the same casual ease as improvised spontaniety. / Written in 15 minutes with the prompt "Chocolate". Sirius/Remus. NC-17 for themes and content.


**Prompt: **Chocolate

**Series: **Harry Potter

**Character/Pairings: **Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, Sirius/Remus

**Rating/Warnings: **NC-16

**Word Count: **914

**Link: ** You Are

* * *

"_You are…" Remus says, "You are like Chocolate, Sirius --"_

(You are a man, not a monster, a far better man than I am. You are _loud_, you are _rough_, you are far from refined and far from _perfect_. You are stubborn, you are strong, you are violent, you are intelligent if only lazy. You are a troublemaker, you are a rebel, you are brash and you are blunt. You are harsh, you are wild, you are too smart for your own good- you are thrill-seeking, you are daring, you are he who tests the limits.)

The shudder that rockets up his spine is familiar, in every way, but that doesn't stop it from being quite so… enjoyable (it's not _enjoyable_ in the way that one would normally expect, a good cold drink on a warm summer's day, a moment of reprieve from an overly stressful time- instead it's rather like… dark chocolate, bitter yet rich, an _exquisite_ pleasure like that in the feel of unkempt nails raking against his skin, leaving red scores and lines even through the denim).

(I am quiet, I am calm, I am well-behaved, I am minding to the rules and I am the counter-point to your strange attraction to troubles. I am controlled, I am disciplined, I am, what some say, what is needed to control you.)

The hand against the small of his back pushes him against the larger man- and he simply presses them together, loops his own arms around to feel far stronger arms wandering up his back. The feel of lips against his own, his head forced back- the taste, everything, far from unfamiliar- and he does not hold himself back, lets himself kiss back, finds his fingers tangled in wild, unkempt hair even when his back finds the rough wood of the floor.

(I am wild, uncontrolled, untamed, I am a danger to everyone around me. I cannot be trusted, I am insane, I am a tragedy waiting to happen. I am an accident, I am a mistake, I am more liability than asset, more foe than friend. I am controlled, I am disciplined, if I am not I will kill and I am a man who cannot afford to lose control or risk losing more. I am cursed, I am a curse, I am a plague upon all who come to know me. I am not a man, I am a monster, I am a murder being plotted with the same casual ease as improvised spontaniety. I am a demon, and I will fall. )

Every touch is hungry and desperate and every movement cries of a need that echoes between their bodies, between the sweat and the feel of blood and skin, the smell as the stench of the old wood and dirt rising from the floor mingles with the scent of his _hair_, the sounds of groans and whispers of words to a God that they never really believed in (oh_-_ dear- god-_ YES_) and names that balanced on the tips of their tonges, never quite spoken but certainly _there_.

(You are strong, you are centred. You are strict to your beliefs, you are loyal to your friends, you are unshakable in your morals. You are determined, you are persistant, you are he who will not give up. You are, I think, I believe, what is needed to control _me_.)

He would almost lament when he could no longer _taste_ the other, that aftertaste lingering on his tongue led him only to crave _more_, but when breath fills his lungs he only finds the energy to groan and whisper ragged praises to a God that was not listening. His fingers scrambled against the wood, laced with rough and calloused hands, tearing and raking at bare skin. His nails dug into flesh in a desperate search for purchase as for a moment his breath was robbed from his chest and a name from his lips, his back arched into the cry that tore itself from his throat- when his mind was blank save for the moment, the pleasure, an endless void through which he could only fall.

(I am the man- the monster- the curse- I am he who must control, I am he who cannot release himself, I am he who lets go only around you.)

And it is like a dream when you wake up as you fall- only he never hit the ground, for when he wakes up he is held tightly in strong arms and leaning against the steady rise-and-fall of the other's chest. He listens, for a moment, to the quiet of the air save for their mingling breaths, before drifting off to sleep again, falling back into the void, hands clapsed tightly around those wrapped around his own body.

(You are the man- the gift- the blessing- You are the man I did not deserve, you are the man around whom I can let go.)

But I will never let you go.

"_-- rich, dark, bitter, but smooth to the taste and touch."_

_He only grins wolfishly back, leaning casually against the walls of the all-too-familiar Shack. He pulls on his clothes, all too aware of the smaller man's wandering eyes. "S' good for you, right?" He laughs, buttoning his shirt. "But they say you can't take too much of it."_

_Remus only smiles and says, "It doesn't make it any less addictive."_

"_Oh? Just gotta take it away, then."_

"_The aftertaste of chocolate only leads you to indulge_._"_


End file.
